“He was regarded by many of his colleagues as the most perilous individual alive – a righteous police officer.”
The tagline used for the rebellious police documentary Serpico during its original release 50 years ago is surprising in hindsight. It’s astonishing that Paramount Pictures used it prominently in their poster and marketing, and that it attracted a large audience. The tagline accurately captures the film’s main message: that corruption is deeply ingrained in the New York Police Department, and potentially in other city departments nationwide. It suggests that a police officer who simply wants to do their job ethically would face insurmountable challenges, and even the risk of death. However, such a sentiment would be deemed too risky for today’s Hollywood, as it may offend those who support “Blue Lives Matter.”
Al Pacino’s peak performance in 1973, sandwiched between The Godfather and The Godfather Part II, was crucial to the success of Dog Day Afternoon. This marked the beginning of a string of collaborations with his Serpico director, Sidney Lumet. In the film, Pacino portrays Frank Serpico, a real-life whistleblower who courageously exposed corruption within the system. While he displays some of the tough and daring qualities of his character Michael Corleone, Pacino also showcases vulnerability and a bohemian charm that mirrors his undercover persona and his own personality. It’s not common for police officers to bust out their ballet skills in the office.
Although Lumet revisited the theme of police corruption with the acclaimed films Prince of the City and Q&A in the 1980s, he was not originally attached to Serpico. The project was initially intended for John G Avildsen, known for his unsettling film Joe and later for directing Rocky. However, Avildsen had a falling-out with Martin Bregman, the up-and-coming producer. Bregman had discovered Al Pacino in an off-Broadway play and the two would collaborate on multiple films, including Dog Day Afternoon, Scarface, Sea of Love, and Carlito’s Way. One of the standout aspects of Serpico is its sense of spontaneity, as if Lumet was brought in at the last minute and had to think on his feet during filming. This adds an exciting and unpolished quality to the movie, which complements the story.
The movie starts with a striking comparison between the beginning and current state of events, as it alternates between Serpico’s swearing-in ceremony and him being rushed to the hospital after getting shot in the face. The rest of the story is then told through flashbacks, as we see Serpico’s first day as a patrolman and how he quickly learns that corruption is rampant among the police force. His supervisor informs him that they get free meals at a deli in exchange for turning a blind eye to double parking for deliveries. While this may seem harmless, things only get worse from there.
As Serpico strives to earn his coveted gold detective badge, he aims to bridge the gap between the department and the communities it serves. He starts by dressing in plainclothes, which sets him apart from his conservative, clean-cut colleagues. Shortly after joining the bureau of criminal investigation (BCI), he is given an envelope containing $300 in cash and his troubles begin. Despite pressure to accept a share of the unit’s protection money, he refuses and faces backlash from his peers and superiors. He stays true to his principles, but it puts his life in danger.
In collaboration with the talented editor Dede Allen, known for her work on The Hustler and Bonnie and Clyde, Lumet skillfully portrays the passage of time in Serpico through strategic use of cuts. Months and even years of the protagonist’s life are condensed into a single moment, creating a sense of urgency. One day, he purchases a puppy for $5 outside his new Brooklyn apartment, and before he knows it, the dog has grown into a full-grown sheepdog. Meanwhile, he continues to go to work and persistently pushes his superiors to address corruption in their precinct or transfer him to a more ethical operation. Eventually, he and his only ally Bob Blair (played by Tony Roberts) decide to go to the press in hopes of pressuring the mayor to take action.
The bravery of the real-life Frank Serpico ultimately led to the Knapp Commission in April 1970 and a significant purification of the NYPD. However, the film’s true accomplishment lies in its sharp portrayal of the impact of institutional corruption on every police officer in the department, even those who may have entered the job with a glimmer of Serpico’s idealism. Even when the animosity towards Serpico is not openly expressed, it is palpable every time he enters a precinct. His near-death experience is akin to a passive attempt on his life, with his supposed comrades purposely putting him in harm’s way. Through Lumet’s masterful use of real locations, the streets of New York reflect the neglect of those in charge, as those responsible for maintaining order are allowing the corruption to thrive.
During a time of bold and daring filmmaking in the US, Serpico played a significant role in solidifying Pacino’s status as a leading figure in the movement towards breaking traditional norms. He portrayed the lone righteous individual among a group of armed men, causing viewers to reconsider their perceptions of law enforcement and recognize the bravery required to defend one’s beliefs. The film, much like its protagonist’s life, continues to be a valuable contribution to society.
Source: theguardian.com
